KvZ. Going from one Capitol city (Bangkok) directly to another (Delhi) is like jumping from the frying pan into the fire. I would have liked to have had a buffer in between, but as both are of course transport hubs, it was not to be. We arrived off the plane in the early evening and took a cab into the heart of India’s capitol. I had of course prepared myself for India, knowing that we would see probably more poverty here than anywhere else. But I also had looked forward to India more than I can tell you. However, nothing can prepare you. Our cab was winding through the completely full streets, but not because it was congested with traffic so much as people and animals. People are everywhere and they don’t much bother to get out of the way. Huge people-drawn carts vie for road space with cycle-rickshaws and motorized rickshaws. I looked over to my right and there was a cow staring right at me through the window. I looked to my left and a little girl with a filthy face was grinning through the window and holding an infant in her arms. Impossibly old men with white beards and turbans piled on top of their heads, mother in gorgeous saris pulling along children, men without limbs rolling along on “skateboards” made from scrap pieces of wood, and business people in suits coming home from a day at the office…all crammed together like it was nothing. I felt like any minute Stephen Speilberg would jump out and yell “Cut!!”. The cab driver had a hard time finding our hotel we’d picked out from the guidebook…he had to completely turn around in the narrow street with a 5 point turn…several people were yelling at him. This was the first time we had really seen people yell much since Cairo. We finally found the hotel and Tim asked if I wanted to check out the room first.
Kristin and friend// Drew passing by one of the hundreds of dealers at Delhi’s autoparts bazar
looking down a street near Jama Mashid Mosque
First I must say that in the whole 7 months of traveling I have never walked out of a room and refused to stay somewhere we had pre-booked. But I just couldn’t stay there. There was nothing that even resembled a “sheet set” on the bed…just 1 sheet thrown over the whole bed and pillows. There were no pillowcases. The one sheet was stained and had footprints on it. The floor was…well, you get the picture. I didn’t even bother to look in the bathroom. When I went back downstairs, Tim had hit it off the with hotelier and I could tell he was embarrassed when I said we could not stay there. He hemmed and hawed until I realized I’d have to take the action. I said I’d go find another hotel and walked out onto the street. It was like walking out directly into a circus parade. My senses were so overwrought that I made it around 10 steps to the very next hotel and ducked inside, my hair standing on end. The room was about 30% better than the first (the sheets were still stained but no visible body hair) and I accepted the room resignedly.
View of Delhi from atop the Jama Mashid Mosque
worshipers cleansing with holy water at Jama Mashid Mosque
The room actually had cable and we watched CNN and tried to regain our senses, but we didn’t leave the room again that night. The next morning we went up to the roof-top restaurant and surveyed the landscape. Mile after mile of rooftops…most all the building are flat and white and the occasional mosque or temple dots the sea of buildings. I recalled feeling this way when we first landed in Africa….I looked down at the people from the roof-top deck there too..trying to adjust before the big plunge of going out onto the street. We finally did make it outside and walked along the busy market streets. Walking in Delhi is exhausting as you can imagine…you are constantly worried about your toes being run over by the rickshaws or carts, and as the carts are sometimes loaded with huge heaps of stone, a mishap could mean losing a foot. But I noticed the drivers are always looking over their shoulder at the feet of the people they are passing, taking much more care than they appear to. We were harassed often by beggars or people wanting to read our palms,etc. The shop-keepers call out to you constantly “Madam…look here..” so you constantly are distracted as you stumble along the torn-up streets with no sidewalks…trying to avoid the huge piles of cow poop. We decided to give the subway a try and fell in love with it. The general population probably can’t afford it so it’s all business people and middle class families. It made traveling around much more convenient than haggling with rickshaw drivers and facing the horrifying traffic.
along one of Delhi’s main roads leading to Humayun’s tomb
watching a cricket match at the park outside Humayun’s tomb
Humayun’s tomb
woman at tomb // stone workers at Humayun’s tomb
In Delhi you constantly hear people speaking English mixed in with their Hindi…even mothers to their children. We decided one night to go see “Slumdog Millionaire” since it was filmed in India and has won many awards. We expected to see lots of English subtitles but almost the whole film was in English, and the theater was packed. The bummer about going to the more public areas such as the subway and malls and theaters is that there is ALWAYS a security check or two which means you must wait to have your bag checked and a metal detector wand waved over you…it gets tiresome. But I needed to go to the mall to get properly dressed. Even though you would think I was used to sticking out like sore thumb, it is much more pronounced in India. My modest “just below the knee” skirts I’d bought for Thailand were suddenly risqué. 99% of the women wear saris or Salwar Kameez, and the Salwars looked comfortable so I bought 2. Of course mine are not silk but the more practable cotton wash and wear! They are indeed comfortable but a real pain when you have to go to the bathroom. And I just can’t figure out how to keep the scarf from falling off around my neck. Any suggestions Neena?
Gandhi’s Memorial
folks moving through New Delhi train station // woman hanging laundry out to dry below our hotel
We eventually upgraded to a nicer hotel (the sheets were only mildly stained and had no body hair) but the floors were still a mess. Mimicking the huge disparity between the wealthy and the poor in India, the hotels are the same. Either they are low end or high end…with little in between. Which means we will rough it some of the time and splurge some of the time. And I think I’ve worked out why the hotels are so dirty…it’s not for lack of people to do the cleaning. It’s because all the business’ are run by men, and they are beneath such things. 3 or 4 will be standing around the front desk doing nothing…another might be half-heartedly sweeping. I’ve never seen anyone mopping or scrubbing. I wonder to myself…”so why don’t they just hire women to do it?” and then I try to picture a women in a silk sari on her hands and knees, scrubbing a bathroom. Everyone knows the only way to effectively scrub a bathroom is in a dirty old t-shirt and sweats. But no Indian women would be caught dead in that. So alas…I must make peace with Mother Earth, and learn to live with the dirt she provides. (Footnote…I have however seen Indian women doing road construction work…breaking up stone with sledgehammers in full sari garb…so go figure.)
making fresh Lassi in Delhi’s Paharganj district
parts dealer at work in Delhi’s autoparts bazar
Becca and Drew score big at a book store in Delhi’s Connaught Place
We have decided to become vegetarians while we are in India (well..I have decided and the kids have no choice, and Tim is rebelling). Luckily most Indians are vegetarians anyway…and we LOVE INDIAN FOOD!! The Aloo-Gobi (cauliflower and potato) in a yummy sauce is our favorite, and the Malai Kofta (cottage cheese balls in sauce) is scrumptious…the Paneer cheese is great in any dish and the Naan and other breads are always so fresh and hot. We were all actually getting sick of Thai food so this is a welcome respite. And you don’t have to worry about what you order here…it’s all good and your’e not apt to accident order fried lizard or ant egg salad, like in Indochina. Between restaurants, we managed to actually take in a few of the tourist sites in Delhi, namely Humayun’s Tomb, Gandhi’s Tomb, and the Jama Masjid Mosque. I especially liked Gandhi’s tomb because it was simple and understated, like him. We also went to the business district of Connaught Place and stocked up on books…Delhi has every newest edition of any English book you could possibly want. I bought “Eat, Pray, Love”, which seemed appropriate. In after thought, I’m glad we started our India journey in Delhi. It jump started us.
rush hour in Paharganj
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